


Willpower

by Absolutely_Barbaric



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Nightmares, Sleep Deprivation, Whump, tagging is not my forte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 23:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolutely_Barbaric/pseuds/Absolutely_Barbaric
Summary: Try as he might, Laurent cannot stay awake forever. Through his hazy recovery, Damen catches a rare glimpse of him sleeping by his side; it's not as sweet as he thought it would be.





	Willpower

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Damen's dumb Friendship is Magic ass gets stabbed in Kings Rising.

_Are the cicadas always this loud?_

 

As far back as he could remember, that was the first conscious thought Damen had in waking up. They weren't bothersome, but within sealed bedchambers, the once lulling rhythm was unusually noisy enough to rouse him from what felt like days of slumber. From what  _were_ days of slumber. A timeline was impossible to form; slave baths, Kastor's corpse, kissing Laurent, Laurent guiding the physicians, Laurent conversing with Nikandros, firm, unwavering, pale...

 

With a great deal of pain, Damen shifted to his side.

 

_...Has he been here this entire time?_

 

No matter how fuzzy the mental timeline, Damen couldn't recall a moment without Laurent in the forefront. Nor a moment where he sported anything but a ripped, dirtied chiton, which had become less alluring by the second and more saddening in its stead. He faced the Regent's trial in this garment, faced Kastor's practiced blade in the minutes after it was over and done. Had he had a moment, all this time, to even acknowledge his success?  _I fight to win_ , Laurent had once said, but Damen continuously wondered if he fought not to lose. He lay next to him, exhausted, and Damen knew he slept only because he couldn't keep his eyes open by the immeasurable willpower his driven mind exerted.

 

Perhaps he held no concern or pride for his victory now, but once his wound was to heal, Damen could vividly see himself hoisting Laurent up in his arms and squeezing him tight, smothering him if he had to in all the pride he felt for him. There was a chance he would be less likely to kick him if he was recently injured, so he could probably hug him all he wanted. Pleased by the thought, Damen let his eyes flutter closed, imagining what it would be like to see him in a chlamys instead of this bloodstained chiton.

 

Softly, Laurent made a sound, and Damen's eyes snapped back open.

 

As with all of Laurent's vulnerable side, it was easy to mistake it for a figment of his imagination. The sound was slight, a quiet hum from within his chest, but Damen's gaze rested on him long after whether real or not. Above his slumped figure, he caught that the window had been opened long ago, certainly not a decision made by any physician. Laurent would have opened it himself in an attempt to air the room from the stench of blood and medicines after they'd finally been left alone. That being said, it didn't look to serve as much of a relief.

 

Never before had Damen seen someone sleep so heavily and tense at the same time. Every joint appeared locked like rusted gears, desiring to move if only they could. Where his lashes would normally grace the tips of his cheekbones, his eyes shut tight instead, brows furrowing now and then before the expression would fade and reappear moments later. Even in his sleep, he was distressed. Damen would have thought it silly if he didn't have good reason for it this time. From the little habits he took joy in knowing of, Laurent didn't care to submit to his body's needs often. Underneath his closed eyes, he was probably fighting to wake himself back up and order more people around. 

 

Through the little twitches of his fingers upon the sheets, Damen wondered if he'd been like this all night, or if he'd even fallen asleep that long ago, when another sound halted him. Not a sound but  _words_ , unrecognizable to him at first through both sleep and accent. The word, to his surprise, was not Veretian. It was Akielon.

 

Over the shift of his thumb turning fabric in towards his palm, Laurent had murmured, achingly, " _Please._ "

 

Damen froze up where he lay.

 

A word like that from Laurent only came soaked in sarcasm. To hear it any other way was not as enjoyable as Damen would have fantasized. It wasn't really enjoyable at all. In the Kingsmeet, in the great hall, in the slave baths, no one had gotten under Laurent's skin but him, and that wasn't a feeling he enjoyed either. Not like this.

 

Whatever dream plagued him, he was pleading to nobody but Damen, trying to watch over him still. Alone, still. He held faint traces of the face he'd made when he first saw all the blood, desperate for a solution to a problem he hadn't had any time to react to, desperate to get everything back under control. His twitching hand and shuddering shoulders brought that to light, and Damen could feel his heart sinking among the ridiculousness of it all. Laurent's cheek was pressed hard enough into the pillow to leave an embroidery imprint whenever he shifted enough. Unable to watch any longer, Damen reached out.

 

Again, it was a great deal of pain. The first thing he caught was a strand of flaxen hair, tangled between his fingers and discolored with swipes of blood. Laurent made another sound, something of displeasure, and Damen's hand slid into his instead. The soft skin there was equally caked in blood, leading him to wonder if at any point he even bothered to wash his hands. Or if he had, and they'd simply gotten bloody again. The sheets themselves were not white either, as there weren't many opportunities to hoist Damen off of them, injured or not, and replace them over and over. It wasn't as though Laurent had an aversion to being dirty, but it felt wrong either way.

 

With his hand in Damen's, he seemed to relax only the slightest bit, one muscle at a time. Yet he fought even that, his eyes shutting tighter as if to deny himself the notion of things being all right. Damen squeezed his hand, but he only withdrew further. Thinking hard, he eventually whispered, " _Laurent,_ " and captured his sleeping attention.

 

"Laurent, we did it. We won, both of us. I told you you weren't going to face him alone-" Talking, he realized, was much more painful than he anticipated. Asleep as deeply as he was, Laurent thankfully didn't notice enough to wake up and tell him to stop overworking himself. " _You saved my life,_ " Damen said. "You've earned a good rest more than anyone."

 

Unthinkingly, he stroked his thumb against Laurent's cheek, pushing back the strands of hair that'd fallen over his face. "I'm not going to die on you," he said. "Not after you did everything to keep me alive. You deserve to sleep easy."

 

After a moment, Laurent nuzzled into his hand, and Damen continued to caress his cheek with a relieved smile. "Don't worry about me. I won't leave you behind."

 

"You buffoon," Laurent muttered, his eyes still closed. "I'm never going to fall back asleep if you keep talking. I wasn't _that_ worried about you."

 

Damen took a minute to regain himself. The ease with which Laurent could vanquish his vulnerabilities left him in awe every time. But he was used to this by now, enough to resume stroking his cheek even though Laurent was beginning to flush at it now that he was fully aware. "You were having a nightmare," Damen told him. "I don't think you're really giving yourself a break after saving two nations from centuries of war."

 

"I didn't save them. You saved them, and I saved you." Laurent's eyes were open now. To Damen's shock, they were red. He made no mention of this, speaking with the familiar lack of concern that drove him crazy. "I will admit that without me, your country would fall prey again to Kastor's type soon with your unbearably forgiving heart."

 

"You really did save me."

 

"If you continue speaking, I will kill you and then we'll be even."

 

"You care about me."

 

"Much less than you give yourself credit for."

 

Damen suddenly doubled over in pain. Laurent sat up, his eyes wild as he pressed a hand to Damen's shoulder. Grinning, Damen looked up at him. "You do care about me."

 

"...You're...not hurt?"

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Good."

 

Laurent flicked his forehead rather harshly. At that Damen did recoil, more exerted than he thought he would be from only pretending to be in pain. It was karma, he supposed. After a minute, Laurent laid himself back down, though he kept a wary gaze as if another stunt might be pulled again. There were no intentions of that.

 

"I'm happy you're here," Damen said. "I don't like physicians." He didn't like this room, either. His father died in this room under the watch of physicians, who poked and prodded at him uselessly with the intolerable odor of anesthetics. He remembered it more vividly than anything before Kastor's overtaking. If his father could be visibly pained by it, it felt like being in these very chambers would never let him out alive. But Laurent was here, and he would eviscerate anyone who wasn't doing there job up to his standards.

 

"You'll be seeing them even longer if you  _don't stop talking._ " It occurred to Damen that he wasn't frustrated with the words, he was worried for the strain in his tone. Reasonably so; talking took a lot out of him that he hadn't noticed until now. His stomach was aching with a pain he wasn't yet acquainted with. Dragging his hand a little heavily over Laurent's shoulder, he thought to have pulled him closer, when really his fingers just pressed against the back of his neck and Laurent scooted in in response. Equally too exhausted to make much of it, he closed his eyes again and rested his head under Damen's chin, tucking his arm to avoid elbowing his stomach through the night. Damen relaxed into it, the pain in his muscles dulling.

 

"I love you," he said.

 

"Damen."

 

"Sorry." With a sheepish smile, he curled his fingers against the back of Laurent's neck, allowing the cicadas' cries to fade from his mind. No matter how pained, he was at peace. They won, and they were here. Once he was better, they could celebrate together. Laurent shifted just slightly underneath him, and after a moment mumbled, "I love you, too."

 

"I love you more."

 

" _Damen._ "

 

Damen gave a breathy little laugh, too tired to do more than that without hurting himself anyway. His arms were full of Laurent, as was his mind. Before long, he fell into a true sleep unlike the days of unconsciousness, and Laurent held himself still against him. For a while he stayed like that, relaxing one muscle at a time, his pulse still wild under all of Damen's weight. Soon, that relaxed too. Into the darkness, he faintly whispered, " _I love you most,_ " and in the minutes after that, he found himself in a slumber just as restful, sighing in tandem with Damen's breath.


End file.
